Extreme Poptart Stuffing
by The Orange Suitor
Summary: Watch as a magical girl named Kylie goes through the fierce emotions brought forth through the sport of Poptart Stuffing.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: A New Kind of Taste**

Kylie Williams was finally home from French Clown School. She was getting in and out of tight places all day. Into tiny cars, out of tiny cars, through hoops, underneath other clowns, etc. Funny thing is, something else would be getting into a _tight_ place very soon. She stared down at the Pop-Tart that was cradled in her hand. The silver wrapper on the front filled her with immense… lust. Such a delicious treasure was underneath, she had to get to it NOW!

"No… this has to be done right" she said suddenly. Kylie once again looked at the wrapper covering her precious food. She had no idea what flavor it was, since she had found it lying in the parking lot outside of French Clown School. Her curiosity was overwhelming. With sparkles in her eyes, she continued to stare fondly at the Pop-Tart.

"What a delightful mystery… I'll definitely _savor_ this moment." Kylie walked farther into the house. She had previously been standing in the kitchen of the house. There, she had set down her belongings while desperately longing to feel the Pop-Tart inside of her. Kylie began walking down a long, carpeted hallway. Her lover, wrapped in a blanket of foil, waited for her to get to the appropriate spot. Kylie made her way towards the bathroom, peeling herself out of her clothes as she went. Piles of clothes were strewn all around the hallway, evidence of events in the past. After what felt like forever, Kylie finally reached the bathroom. It was the most grand room in the house, decorated with various pictures of Kylie holding up different flavored Pop-Tarts. Of course, the bathroom had the standard equipment necessary for daily routines. A toilet, shower, and sink were all scattered in different corners of the unusually large room. In the center however, was something out of the ordinary. Illuminated by a bright overhead light, the red chair sat gloriously. Everything else paled in comparison to it, at least in Kylie's mind. This chair was almost normal, except someone had cut a hole in the middle of it. Kylie stood near the chair, her naked body illuminated by the lights above. The Pop-Tart's wrapper glistened in the light, invitingly. She looked towards the single, dark corner of the room.

"Oh Mister Richardson!" she called in that direction. A slight movement came from the corner, as if someone who had fallen asleep was just jostled awake. Then a figure walked out from the corner, an expressionless face prominent.

"Oh, good afternoon Miss Williams. I see you are here for the _usual_?" He raised his eyebrows in a questioning way. Kylie looked back at him, blushing. She wasn't sure why she was embarrassed, she had done this many times after all.

"Y-y-yes! A-I am!" she stammered. "This time, Michael, it's a _mystery flavor_." She walked over to him, handing him the still-wrapped Pop-Tart.

"Oh-ho-ho? A mystery, you say? How intriguing!" Kylie walked over to the red chair and plopped herself into it. Never had it occurred to her that she was sitting in a chair, naked, in full view of another person. She was far too focused on the task at hand. "So, do you want me to warm this up in the microwave first?" he inquired while slipping on a rubber glove.

"No," she responded, "I'm going in cold today." Her eyes shifted back and forth while she spoke. Kylie was fully aware of how the process of warming up a Pop-Tart would help with the process. It's similar to the way that hotdog eaters use water to mush their food up. Kylie squirmed in her chair, waiting. The suspense was unbearable.

"Well then, Miss Williams, get ready." Her faithful "activity-manager" Michael bent down at the side of the red chair that she was seated in. Kylie braced herself for contact. She relaxed her anus, allowing for the process to take place. Michael pushed the now unwrapped Pop-Tart up inside of Kylie, releasing his grip once he decided it was far enough. After his gloved hand had exited her, Kylie clenched to prevent the Pop-Tart from escaping. Kylie began working the Pop-Tart around as Michael stood up behind her, removing the glove. Kylie could FEEL everything, every crumb, every sprinkle. She began the tasting process, looking for familiarities. She wasn't sure which flavor it could be… blueberry?

"Oh… oh… it's on the tip of my BUTT" Kylie said. She squealed in agony, trying to figure out exactly what it was. Could it be? No… STRAWBERRY? The familiar flavor warmed her heart more than a toasted Pop-Tart ever could. "Strawberry…." she swooned. "My _favorite!_ " She continued to squirm in the chair, enjoying the feeling and taste of the Pop-Tart shoved so deep inside of her. She carefully got up from the chair, grabbing a bathrobe from Michael as she did so.

"Here you are, Miss" he stated.

"Thank you, Mister Richardson!" she replied. Kylie gracefully walked over to a drain on the floor. It was slightly rusted, and the floor around it was freshly cleaned. Her red bathrobe trailed behind, with the insignia of a Pop-Tart in the center of the back. Once she was directly over the drain, Kylie got into a deep squat. She strained herself, trying to force the strawberry-flavored mush out. Finally, it all came out in one large mound of mush, landing with a splat on the drain. Her faithful attendee looked at the pile on the floor.

"Well done!" he exclaimed, before giving her a pat on the butt. Once again, she blushed.

"You know what the best part about this is Michael?"

"What, Miss?"

"My butt will be strawberry scented for the rest of the day! Eeee!" She threw off the robe and ran giggling into the other room, eager to get the rest of the process finished. Indeed, she was quite messy after this ordeal. It was a very dark room that she ran into, where _he_ resided. Kylie called to him.

"Mister Asasinero? I need your professional help!" A pair of red eyes leered at her from the darkness. His full name was Soulantro Asasinero, and he was known for his cleanliness. His room had no lights, for lights attract insects. There was no furniture, for furniture gathered immense amounts of dust. Indeed, all mister Soulantro wore was a skin-tight, black uniform. Of course, it covered most of his face, to prevent germs from getting into the airways.

"Oh, did you indulge in another one of your filthy snacks again?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied saucily, "and I'm still a little _dirty_ if you know what I mean." They stared into each other's eyes for a while, until the shady man decided to break the prolonged silence.

"Well then, step right in. I'll take care of that for you. Eck." It was clear that Soulantro had disdain for the activity that was about to take place. Kylie stepped into the dark room, and at once she heard fast footsteps and the door was shut behind her. She couldn't see anything, but felt a gentle pair of hands guiding her farther into the room. She felt the hands stop her somewhere near the center. He was apparently satisfied with their location, because he asked her a question.

"Are you ready to begin, Kylie?"

"Yes." Soulantro began his work. He took a washcloth, and ran it under some warm water. She could hear the water, but had no idea where the sink could be in the dark room. Then she felt a tingling coming from her derriere as he began. He reached around, cleansing Kylie from every last bit of Pop-Tart that still plagued her insides. Working fast, she felt disturbing mixtures of pain and pleasure as he made sure she would be clean enough to eat out of again. It took no time at all. Soon, he was finished. She heard a satisfying *pop* as his hand and washcloth exited her. "Thank you," she shuddered.

"You're welcome, I'll be here if you need me again." Kylie saw blinding amounts of light as Soulantro opened the door to the outside world again. She initially shielded her eyes from this assault with her left arm, but stopped when her eyes were adjusted. Then Kylie went on her merry way, walking out of the door fresh and with a spring in her step. She never felt weird about sharing her home with a few people, so long as they offered her their _services_ in return. She walked into the kitchen again, sifting through the belongings she had previously dumped on the counter. Then she found the key she had been looking for, scattered among photos and several bottles of liquid. This key opened up a peculiarly large cupboard in the kitchen. Once unlocked, she pulled open the door and stared in awe at the scene before her. Boxes upon boxes of her favorite food. All the different flavors, stacked into neat rows. Of course, the boxes that preached the flavor were deceitful. She had manually gone through them and switched all of the Pop-Tarts around, so she would get a surprise each time. Her favorite was strawberry, of course. She loved them, and sometimes even dared to eat one with her mouth. She was lost in deep thought, in a Pop-Tart trance. Then she shut the cupboard door, sighed, and walked out of the kitchen.

Kylie had realized she had forgotten to get the mail today. Walking quickly out the front door and towards the mailbox, she triumphantly discovered a large stack of mail. Going through it, she found a mix of things. Firstly were the boxes of watermelon Pop-Tarts that she ordered.

"Mmm… those have a nice texture." Next were bills, a letter from her brother, advertisements, and one more thing. She brought everything inside and spread it all across the table in the main room of the house. There was a small rectangular piece of paper. With her curiosity peaked, Kylie picked it up and turned it over in her hands. When she read it, her face expressed great surprise and fear. It was finally here… a year had passed. She had once again received her invitation to the competition. The one that she loved, and hated.

"Come one come all" she read aloud from the invitation, " to the annual Pop-Tart Stuffing Festival! Here, you can express your love of Pop-Tarts completely by stuffing them up inside of you and seeing how many you can hold! Only the best of the best can win this difficult competition! Come on down!" She let the invitation fall out of her hands. Last year had been the hardest competition she had ever faced. It had left a gaping hole…. in her heart. She had lost horribly, she couldn't take it. However this year would be different, because she had trained for it. As scary as it would be, she would win this time. Also when she went outside to get mail she was naked and all the neighbors saw her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Unorthodox Methods**

The day after she received the invitation to the Pop-Tart Stuffing Festival, Kylie Williams was deep in thought. She couldn't simply skip out on the Festival's competition. Her honor would not allow her to do that. She was sitting on her bed, staring at the invitation. She recited the words printed in bold until she knew them by heart. There was one problem with her possible participation in the matter. She most certainly wasn't ready, and last year had proved that to be true. She needed an edge, something to help her do better in the competition. Of course, she was fully against the cheap warming-up-in-the-microwave tactic. She pondered this for a while, until her stomach told her it was time to get up and get something to eat. Having no new ideas, Kylie wandered into the kitchen to look for something to insert inside her mouth. Food was never a problem, her husband was rich. Even with the oodles of delicious Pop-Tarts she stockpiled, there was still _plenty_ of money for everything else they needed. However, having such a high-paying CEO job took a lot of time and energy. The job caused him to rarely ever be home, leaving Kylie free to do whatever she wanted. The conditions permitted her to pursue her hobby, free of judgement from her husband. She knew that he would disapprove, but not for the reasons that most people would think.

Of course, Kylie's actions yesterday had drawn unwanted attention. Running outside to get mail, without any clothes on, isn't exactly normal. Grabbing a piece of toast and some orange juice, Kylie sat at the table reading the newspaper. She crunched noisily on the toast, enjoying it even though it was slightly burned. Surprise surprise, somebody had taken a picture of her when she strolled outside yesterday, and now it was in the paper.

"That's what they pass as news nowadays?" she said. "Unbelievable." Drifting across the pages of the paper, one particular story caught her eye. It was all about the growing "Pastry Trend." What started off as a small, devoted group of Pop-Tart stuffers, grew into a large and strange group of individuals. As the population grew, so did the ideas. People began stuffing different things, mostly pertaining to pastries. Donuts, muffins, and cookies were all examples of popular new choices. Kylie stuck to the original. Pop-Tarts came before all others, and she was one of the first stuffers ever to be on the public scene. The article, besides going into the latest pastry trends, also delved into the upcoming festival. Apparently, some interesting celebrities would be making appearances. There would be new and exciting activities to try, such as Stuffed Yoga. The main attraction was, of course, still the Stuffing Competition that occurred on the end of day 3 of the festival. The first day of the festival was only six days away. This made her begin to think about training again. She almost felt in a panic, her time was running out. She didn't want to embarrass herself like last year, especially by losing to… _him._ The thought made her gag, spitting out chunks of burnt toast into the orange juice. They rippled as they entered the liquid, sending splashes back at Kylie. She watched as they grew soggy, floating towards the bottom.

Kylie thought about the pieces of toast. They made sense to her. Always wanting to be closer to the center of the planet, the toast moved towards the bottom of the glass. Towards the bottom… down… not up! Now that was a plan! When she stuffed Pop-Tarts, she always tried to force them to go up instead of down! That was something that they didn't want to do…

"Nope, that's it" she said. "I'm going to go practice some new methods." She walked over to the Pop-Tart cupboard, grabbed several large boxes at once, and walked in the direction of the bathroom. The sound of it slamming shut rang throughout the house, and Kylie got to work.

(Squishing, unpleasant noises, splatting sounds, squealing, the sound of a glove snapping on, strained noises, grunts, and an a dripping faucet were the things that a passerby could hear coming from the house.)

Three hours later, Kylie emerged from the bathroom. She was dressed in a bathrobe, but was still dripping with sweat. The practice and effort had beared little fruit. She tried flipping the Pop-Tarts upside down, thinking that they would rather go up then down. This was entirely untrue, gravity pulled them down no matter what. No matter how many times she tried, stuffed, clenched, dropped, and repeated, nothing appeared to change. She was still a mediocre stuffer. She walked back into the kitchen, defeated. She hadn't bothered to get cleaned this time, she just wanted to get out of there this time. Unfortunately for her, there was now a trail of squishy Pop-Tart crumbs leading from the bathroom to the kitchen. She put her face on the kitchen table, hitting it with her fist. The ordeal had made her enraged, and she had run out of ideas. In the middle of this dilemma, Kylie heard a sound. It was her doorbell ringing, beckoning her to come forth and answer. She responded to the call, stumbling from the kitchen to the front door uncomfortably. The Pop-Tarts had now dried inside of her, making movement much more difficult. She opened the door without checking to see who it was. A stranger dressed in a rainbow of clothing, the man addressed her.

"Oh, hello there" he said, checking her out as he talked. "I see you're… slightly more clothed than yesterday?" Knowing what he was referring to, she blushed.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't… really know… that I didn't have clothes on" she apologized. Kylie hid her face in her hands. He raised his left hand, palm facing towards her.

"No. That's not why I'm here" he responded. "Gosh, I can't believe it's really you. I was walking by yesterday, and I instantly recognized that you were the girl from the Festival last year!" She stared at him from in between her fingers.

"Wha… what? You were there?" she asked.

"Yes, and I admired your effort in the competition. I had wanted to tell you so badly that you were doing your technique all wrong, but you left and I never got to see you again. My name is Brick, by the way. Brick Brostelfurd."

"No way… as in the Brostelfurd family that created twonkies? Everyone's favorite new pastry?"

"Yea… twonkies… that's us!" Wanting to get down to business, Brick reached into the bag that rested on his shoulders and pulled out something that was a vivid orange. "What do you see here?" he said, spinning the object around.

"A… a traffic cone?" she responded.

"Yes, a traffic cone. Now, why would I have brought a traffic cone?" Eyebrows raised, he waited for a response.

"I… um… I really don't know."

"Boy, we have a lot of work to do" he said, rolling his eyes. "May I come inside?"

"Be my guest." Kylie stepped aside, letting him in. Brick walked triumphantly inside, and Kylie shut the door behind him. Brick decided that they should stay in the living room to practice. It was a spacious room, and would fit their needs nicely.

"Can you stand on your head?" he asked, unwrapping a Pop-Tart that he had apparently brought in the bag.

"Wait what? Stand on my head? Why?" Kylie wasn't even sure that she had the strength to do that.

"Just trust me, now try it." Kylie attempted to stand on her head, finding it difficult. She was not a very balanced person, and as such couldn't do this without tons of effort. Brick helped to balance her, and once she was in the perfect position, she was able to stay that way. Of course, her robe had fallen off as soon as she started to try this. It was now lying on the floor, cushioning her head. Brick held up the traffic cone above her. She still wasn't sure what he was getting at, and she couldn't see exactly what he was doing.

"Brace yourself" he said suddenly, and before Kylie knew what was happening, the traffic cone had entered her ass.

"Ooo…. a...aaaa…" she said as the traffic cone stayed there. It felt like the cone was ripping her apart. He walked around her in a circle, making sure she was still balanced.

"Nice, it was a good fit. You doing alright?"

"I'm fine I guess" she said through gritted teeth. Brick now revealed something around twenty Pop-Tarts in his hands. _Assorted flavors, my favorite-_ she thought. He proceeded to put all the Pop-Tarts into the traffic cone. They wouldn't go in without a little effort, though. He balled his hand into a fist and punched into the cone, pushing all the Pop-Tarts into Kylie. She could already feel a major difference taking place. Instead of having to clench to get the Pop-Tarts in further or even to get them to stay in, they just did it on their own. Gravity did the rest of the work, pulling the Pop-Tarts down through her, making more room in the process. He took twenty more, a combined number that Kylie had never tried before. Forty Pop-Tarts is a lot, after all. He crushed those before placing them into the cone. The pieces rolled on the sides, easily going into Kylie's now opened butt.

"Yes… crushed is better than whole" he said thoughtfully. The blood had begun rushing to Kylie's head, making her extremely uncomfortable. She couldn't remember the last time she had actually stood on her head. Focusing on this caused her to lose her balance and topple over. The cone made a popping sound and launched itself away from her when she hit the ground. The force had caused pressure to expel the cone. Pop-Tart crumbs followed, falling all over the dark blue carpet.

"That wasn't a bad first session" Brick said, picking up the cone and placing it back into his bag. "You'll need a decent amount of practice, but eventually this will get better. We may even flip the cone over before putting it in you! That'll make a hell of a lot more room." Kylie continued to lay on her side, out of breath and too exhausted to get up. Her hair was messily strewn all around her head, covering most of her face as she breathed quickly. Brick strolled out of the room and out the front door, slamming the door behind him. She wasn't sure what struck her more, the fact that he had been at the festival, or the fact that he had said "first session." Regardless, Kylie was excited. This method had proved successful, and she had also been proven right on a previous theory. She crawled from the living room to the kitchen, trying to leave behind as little mess as possible. Once in there, she hoisted herself up to the kitchen sink. Once in the sink, she turned around, raised herself up a little, and released her Pastry-Load into the sink drain. She watched the water swirl the assortment of crumbs and colors into the drain, thinking about the Festival. She had made a promise to herself yesterday that she would win the competition. Now, fueled by a first success, she was completely determined to fulfill that promise. Also, she was pretty sure that Brick had stolen her bathrobe when he left. It wasn't on the floor of the living room when she went back to it, and he did seem a little lusty when she first met him.

If a person were to walk by Brick's house, they would hear something somewhat disturbing. Sniffing noises could be heard coming from the house for almost a half an hour after he got home. Those who had stuck around long enough would have heard him utter something quietly under his breath before stopping.

"Mmm… Strawberry."


End file.
